The Palace of Laughter by Jon Berkeley Read Free Book Online Page B

Knoblauch. “It’s meant to. That’s why the boss keeps it, innit? Keep everyone in line.”
    â€œStop flapping your gums and get moving,” barked Genghis. “We have to get The Null back into its wagon before the Lardespeople roll out of their beds and find something’s been snacking on their mutton.”
    The strongmen yanked on the chains, and The Null whipped around in the remains of the mattress and gave a cackle that made the hair stand up on Miles’s neck. Two of the strongmen pulled itafter the retreating figure of Genghis, while another couple hauled from behind, stumbling and slipping as they struggled to keep the creature from mauling the men in front.
    Miles waited behind the rock a few minutes more, shivering in his wet clothes. He stared at the bones that lay scattered in the grass. If The Null had been eating sheep, he thought, perhaps it had not devoured Little after all. But if not, where was she? She could not have run away with her twisted ankle. Perhaps she was under what remained of the mattress, squashed flat by the weight of the monster. He crept forward and stood before the mattress, summoning up the courage to look underneath. He bent and flipped it over. It was lighter than before, having lost most of its stuffing, and there was nothing underneath but splintered wood and his old biscuit tin, entirely flattened. The overcoat lay in the grass where it had been tossed aside.
    Miles flopped down on the disemboweled mattress and put his head in his hands. “This is what happens,” he muttered to Tangerine, “when we meddle in things that aren’t our business. Now the girl is missing, and we have nowhere to live.” There was no answer from Tangerine.
    A pinecone fell from the tree above and bouncedoff the back of his neck. Another one hit the top of his head. Miles looked up at the tree. “That’s right, drop your cones on me,” he shouted. “Do I look like I don’t have enough troubles already?”
    â€œI’m sorry,” said the tree in a familiar voice. “I just wanted to make sure it was safe.”
    â€œLittle?” said Miles.
    A pale face appeared in the darkness between the branches. “Have they gone away?” asked Little.
    â€œThey’ve gone away,” said Miles. A wave of relief rose from his frozen feet and swept through him like laughter. “You can come down now.”
    Little scrambled down the twisted trunk. Her skin was scratched by the bark. Miles shook out the overcoat and wrapped it around her. It trailed on the ground like a royal train.
    â€œAre you okay?” he asked her.
    â€œYes,” she said. “I know you told me to stay out of sight, but I heard someone coming, and I knew it wasn’t you. You don’t smell that bad. So I hid up the tree.”
    â€œYou’re lucky you got up there before they saw you,” said Miles. He looked at the small girl, who reached no more than halfway to the tree’s lowest branches, and wondered how she had managed to get up there at all.
    â€œLet’s go,” said Miles. “I’ll carry you on my back.”
    Little did not seem as light as before, but Miles suspected that his old overcoat counted for much of the weight. He followed a familiar path between the rocks and gorse bushes, over the brow of the hill and down into the small wood on the other side. Dry leaves whispered under his feet, and overhead the wind rustled through the treetops, making the branches creak. Out of sight of his smashed home he could imagine that it was still there, warm and dry, waiting for him to return. To push the picture of the demented beast out of his mind he thought about the tiger who had visited him the night before.
    â€œLittle, is there a tiger at the Circus Oscuro?”
    â€œI’ve never seen one,” said Little. “Why?”
    â€œI dreamed about one last night. At least I think it was a dream, but it